Listening In the Rain

Listening In the Rain

Perhaps you’ve walked in the rain at some time,

Standing long enough to wash off life’s grime.

Then all of a sudden there’s a downpour,

Washing out memories that have made our eyes sore.

The time for crying, facing life, and standing alone,

Took place in some city streets far from home.

Life’s moments each different for the chance-takers,

Often climax in sorrows of the decision-makers.

Some point their fingers at the adventurer who chose,

To surrender to life’s offerings bringing them too close.

Afraid of the consequences, the drama, the associated trauma,

The others would winch and smirk when listening to the saga.

Yet, it’s with absurdity the others walk with acclaim,

Lifting up their own opinions nothing extraordinary but plain.

Their lives and their journeys without splendor or lesson,

Have left them empty and inexperienced filled with aggression.

I listen in the rain to the words spoken to me,

Of my life, my hopes, and sometimes my misery.

But I wouldn’t change a thing that I’ve said or done,

To satisfy those wearing raincoats, those who wouldn’t dare come.

Drenched in the downpour of the torrents of life,

I’ve been stabbed to the bones by on-looker's knives.

It wasn’t their life nor their walk in the rain,

To this place of understanding, it was my choice that I came.

Without a cloak or coat or hat or garment at all,

I bathe in the plummeting rain praying it doesn’t stall.

For it’s in these moments I listen, soaked from head to toe,

The master points me in the direction that I should go.

By: Dan R. Fowler

For: Astrid